


Who Killed Markiplier: Origins

by foolofatook001, Madness_Life_and_Choice



Category: Who Killed Markiplier? (Web Series)
Genre: Actor Mark Being an Asshole (Who Killed Markiplier?), Angst, Angst and Fluff, Childhood Friends, Damien Needs A Hug, F/M, Poor Life Choices, affair, damien does not get a hug, mainly angst though I'm not gonna lie, origin story time, some beta we die like actor mark, the house entity is a jerk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-21 17:41:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30025455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foolofatook001/pseuds/foolofatook001, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madness_Life_and_Choice/pseuds/Madness_Life_and_Choice
Summary: Every story has its beginning. Every monster has its origin. Mayhem and mistakes weave a cruel web of madness, trapping our main players to the stage. How did it come to this?
Relationships: Celine | The Seer/Wilford Warfstache | William J. Barnum | The Colonel, Damien | The Mayor & Actor Mark & Wilford Warfstache | William J. Barnum | The Colonel, Damien | The Mayor & Y/N | The District Attorney (Who Killed Markiplier?)
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter I

Will held back a laugh as he snuck among the dense bushes of the park. He could hear the autumn leaves crunch below his friend’s feet as he searched for a good spot. Although Will was well aware of the game’s objective, he just couldn’t help but circumvent the rules of hide and seek in favour of a little fun. This was the game he’d always enjoyed, becoming both the hunter and the prey. His mind returned from his musings as Mark’s voice echoed around the park meadow. 

“Come on, Will! If you’re hiding in the bushes again, you won’t scare me. You hid there last time!” Mark shouted with amusement. 

As silent as the grave, Will began to make his way through the brush in the direction of his friend’s voice. As he pushed away another branch, he noticed the boy’s silhouette through the thin mist, making his way towards him. He scrambled up a tree with as much stealth as he could muster, adamant to maintain his originality. Although it was sparse, the lowest branch was high enough to hide him from general detection, which suited his needs just fine. Once he spotted the familiar shade of brunette hair pass below him, he initiated his attack.

“CATCH ME!” Will’s impromptu war cry became intermingled with a shriek of terror as Will landed on top of his unfortunate victim, bringing him to the ground. Will jumped up and whooped joyfully as Mark broke through the clearing. Will’s paused mid shout and looked back and forth between his victim and Mark in utter confusion. 

“Who are you, you madmen?” shouted the poor boy, struggling to his feet and meeting Will’s confused stare with defensive caution.

"You aren't Mark," Will muttered as Mark rushed to help him up.

"I’m so sorry, he thought you were me!" Mark said, his voice slightly panicked. "Are you hurt?"

Not Mark brushed off his clothes and searched for any injuries. "No, no, I think I'm alright," he muttered. He looked to Will, who hadn't bothered to even brush the leaves out of his hair. “Why in the world were you in a tree anyways?” he questioned, his adrenaline fading. 

“Hide and seek, of course!” Will responded, bouncing slightly and adjusting his smudged glasses. 

“Then why did you jump out of the tree?” demanded the boy. “You lost!” He glanced over to Mark in confirmation, who simply shrugged. 

“That’s how he plays it,” Mark said breezily. “I can’t complain, it makes the game bunches more exciting.”

A small grin started to form on the boy’s face as he shook his head in amusement. “You really are madmen!” he said playfully as he put out his hand to shake. “I’m Damien.” 

“William J. Barnum, pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Will proclaimed with an overly posh accent, shaking Damien’s hand with rigor.

“Come on, stop messing around. We wanna have him be our friend, even if you did ambush him from a tree,” Mark teased, turning to Damien. “He’s Will, I’m Mark. I live in the house up the hill. Do you want to play with us?” Mark said joyfully, forgetting the tension from moments before.

“Well, a dose of common sense wouldn’t hurt either of you,” responded Damien, a hint of playfulness entering his tone. The three boys raced down the clearing and around the park, playing well into the afternoon.

“We really do look alike!” Damien commented as the three sat down among the trees. 

“I KNOW!” exclaimed Will.

“We’re amazing, like a team!” announced Mark. “The Three Musketeers!” Damien laughed as he ran. He looked over at Will, who had picked up a few sticks from the ground and started waving them wildly. “En garde!” he shouted, his eyes alight with excitement. They all rushed into the mock battle, fighting enemies unseen as they scattered piles of fallen leaves and filled the air with laughter. 

As the sun set, a girl’s voice echoed through the park. The trio paused and Damien sighed. “That’s Celine. Guess I have to leave.” Damien set down his stick and began to walk down the path of the park towards the exit. 

“Can you play tomorrow?” Mark called out to the retreating boy. 

“Sure,” replied Damien. He paused in hesitation. “Can my sister Celine play tomorrow too? We don’t really know anyone else around here. “

“But the Three M-” groaned Mark before Will elbowed him in the stomach, cutting him off. “I mean, yeah, sure!” he amended with a slightly pained smile.

Damien’s face lit up. He looked like he was about to say more, but Celine’s voice cut once more through the park. “See you tomorrow!” he shouted and ran off. 

-0-

_ So they were joined by Damien, the new boy in the neighborhood, and his tagalong twin, Celine, whose greatest fear was being left out of the fun. She would use every trick at her disposal to get the boys to let her play with them. Will and Mark thought she was annoying, but Damien was fun, and it was better to play with a group of four than three. _

-0-

Mark, Damien, Will, and Celine stood together in the perfectly manicured garden of a mansion’s backyard. Mark had invited them all over to play at his grandparents’ house, though they hadn’t expected such a vast place to explore. The property was astonishing, the mansion an immense collection of smoky marble, clouded glass, and spires climbing into the sky. Celine gazed at the bushes, deep red roses curling in between the ivy.

“Come on! I know the best place to go!” Will said gleefully, following a path around the house and down the porch’s stairs. 

“Is that a pool?” Damien murmured under his breath, glancing behind them as they all ran to follow.

The group finally came to a halt in front of a stretch of grass and trees, the stairs from above creating a small wall of stone. Mark gestured to the expansive scene excitedly

“We thought this would be the perfect place to play castle! We haven’t done that in a while!” he informed them with pride. 

Damien smiled, shrugged, and jumped onto one of the stairsteps with ease. “I’m up for anything.”

“This’ll be so fun!” exclaimed Will. Celine crossed over to observe the surrounding trees, looking for nooks and crannies to run to before nodding and sitting beside Damien.

“Okay!” started Mark. “I’ll be the knight. Will, you can be the dragon. Celine, you’ll be the princess and Damien can be the evil king!” He crossed his arms in satisfaction with the choice, but Celine had other ideas. 

“Why do you choose who’s who?” she demanded “I want to be the dragon this time!” She crossed her arms obstinately. Damien hesitantly added to his sister’s complaint.

“I don’t really want to be the bad guy this time, Mark,” he said, tracing patterns in the rough stone he sat on. 

“Celine, maybe you can be the dragon next time. And Dames, come on. Who else would be the bad guy? You do it so well!” Mark replied with conviction. 

“Will can be the princess,” insisted Celine. Damien looked unconvinced. Mark remained steadfast in his decision.

“Hey, come on. My house, I make the rules this time,” Mark insisted. The three continued to argue, each reluctant to cave to the others’ demands. 

“Can’t we just play the game already?” questioned Will loudly, his frustration evident. In the others’ distraction he’d somehow gotten two large leaves to flap around. “I already have my wings,” he said. 

The three paused and glanced at each other, slightly embarrassed at the spectacle they made. 

“Alright, let’s do this.” said Damien. 

The quartet then resumed their exploration, as the evil (albeit confused) king captured the princess, who fought back a little too hard. The knight fought the dragon and the princess and searched for buried treasure until the peal of the cook’s lunch bell reached the children’s ears.

Mark turned to his friends, a mischievous grin growing on his face. He dashed up the stairs, yelling “Race you there!” as he ran. 

“No fair!” exclaimed Will and Damien in unison. The others hurriedly sprinted up the stairs, Damien in the lead quickly catching up to Mark. As the adventurers raced around the back patio, Celine fell behind as the trio rounded a corner. Determined, she put everything she had into her sprint, her competitive side taking over in full force. She too rounded the corner, but was met with a much different scene.

Her pace slowed down as she felt a prickling on the back of her neck, growing greater by the second. The feeling was overwhelming, as if her whole body was half asleep, trying to wake her up with the invisible pins and needles. 

_Damien, Will, and Mark were nowhere in sight. She started to run faster, desperately trying to find them, static buzzing in the air. Everything looked muted, yet not. She reached the front door as the ominous feeling built to a climax,_ _but in a flash of ruby red the sensation disappeared quicker than it surfaced._

Her eyes darted from the garden to the door in confusion and panic as the boys rounded the corner to reach her. 

“Celine! You got here before all of us!” cried Mark in exasperation. “Did you find a shortcut?” 

“If she did find a shortcut, she wouldn’t tell you,” Damien teased lightly. 

"Well, I'll find it someday even if she doesn't!" Will stated matter-of-factly.

Celine gave a nervous smile and shrugged, uncertain as to what just occurred. She shook her head, moving into the front entryway. The conversation was soon forgotten as the kids heard the clattering of plates and cutlery, soon scrambling to find their seats inside.

The fun continued as they returned from their meal, looking for adventure well into the evening. Once the sun set, the staff ushered them in, assuring the twins that their parents would arrive soon. The group sat in the entryway, looking around and talking happily.

“Well, when I grow up, I wanna be a… a ghost hunter!” Celine said enthusiastically. The others laughed as she poked Damien in the side. 

“Well if I was a ghost, I’d be running,” Mark teased, turning to Will. “what do you want to be?” 

William sat up energetically, practically bouncing in his seat. “I want to be a newsman! Traveling the world, telling stories, exploring huge jungles!”

“Don’t you mean explorer?” Damien tried to correct, holding up a hand. Will shot back an indignant look.

“No, I mean newsman.” He sat down on the floor, tracing the pattern. Celine turned to Damien. 

“You’ve been quiet. What about you?” Damien gave a sheepish grin, launching off the bench.

“I want to be a knight!” he exclaims, pointing to the suit of armor in the corner of the entryway. “Fighting villains and helping save the kingdom!” he swung his arms around in a wide arc. “I would get the coolest sword!”

“Well, I want to be an actor!” Mark cut in, crossing his arms with a grin. “That way I can be all those at once!”

“No fair!” William responded, looking over. Damien piped up to defend his friend.

“It’s a real job!” he stated, looking over to Mark, who hopped happily at the support of his friend. “I think he’d do a great job!”

“See! It would be the best!” Mark exclaimed, jumping to sit on the bench between Celine and Will. “I would help make the best movie ever! And you guys would be in it and we all could have the best part ever!”

The quartet burst into chatter, talking about their imagined plans until a knock on the door came and the twins were taken home. Will moved to get up, walking over to the door.

“I should get home too,” he said, pulling the door open. Mark sighed, looking at him pleadingly. 

“One more game of hide and seek?” he tried, but Will laughed. 

“We have to start school tomorrow, remember? I’ll see you there.”

Will closed the door behind him as Mark turned around with a slight smile. Old friends, new friends, this was the best summer he’d ever had.


	2. Chapter II

_ The years flew by, the group growing closer through thick and thin. Late night mischief, schoolyard shenanigans, nothing could stop the quartet. As they tried sports, went to rehearsals, grew up, they stayed close as ever. _

_ The group split for the first time when Damien graduated, taking his acceptance to law school with enthusiasm. The group was brought down to a trio as the rest entered university a year later. Between their mischief on campus, Mark, Will, and Celine sought after their own passions. Between the theater performances, clubs, and mock debates and drills, the group met up as often as they could through their studies. Late nights were spent in astonishing chaos, celebrating absolutely everything and nothing at all. Will enlisted in the army upon graduating. Celine began studying the happenings of the supernatural on her own time. The remaining group (sans Will, who had been sent overseas) tried to meet still, but it got harder. _

_ Almost two years later, they began to settle down. Damien finished working on his studies and Mark’s career allowed him to make his own hours. Celine supported her brother as best she could through his campaign, though she often traveled around searching for new adventures.  _

-0-

Will took a deep breath as he set the pen to the envelope, filling in Mark’s address almost without thinking. It had been four years since he’d seen any of his friends. He’d been all over the world. He’d seen terrible things and beautiful things. He’d watched his comrades die. He’d nearly been killed too many times to count — not that he had told his friends at home about that. Not two months ago he’d been laid up in the infirmary with a bullet hole in the bicep — it still ached when the rainy season set in. He was ready to come home.

-0-

“... and so it is with a lighter heart that I can inform you that I will be shipping out and coming back to the states!” Mark read, growing excited. Celine turned, her eyes wide, and Damien set down his law book in surprise.

“He’s coming back?” Celine said, a smile lighting her dark eyes as it spread over her face.

“Do you —do you think he’s all right?” Damien asked, his brow furrowing. “He always planned on more than one tour of duty.”

Mark waved a hand. “I’m sure he’s all right. He’ll be coming  _ home, _ Damien! Don’t you want to see Will again?”

“Well, yes, but — ”

“Is he going to live with you and Damien, Mark?” Celine interrupted.

“I don’t see why not,” Mark said.

Damien still looked concerned, but he was drawn into the other two’s plans for welcoming Will back home before too long.

-0-

Mark was waiting at the docks for Will when he disembarked, and the two friends — close as brothers — shared a tight embrace.

“Mark!” Will exclaimed when he pulled back. “You’re looking well, my friend!”

“So are you!” Mark said, though he couldn’t help but notice that his friend had become all sharp angles, from his clean-shaven face to his slightly thinner but more muscular figure, and that there was a darker and sadder cast to his eyes than there had been before. “I’m glad you made it home in one piece.”

“Yes,” said Will, and his expression was distant for a moment. Then he seemed to come back to reality. “So, what have you and Damien been getting up to while I wasn’t there to keep you out of trouble?”

“Out of trouble? As I seem to recall, we were the ones who always had to fish  _ you _ out of trouble,” Mark said as they headed for his car.

“Preposterous,” Will blustered, sounding more like himself as he tossed his trunk into the back seat of the car.

“Damien and Celine will be very glad to see you,” Mark said, grinning. “And of course we’ve already got a room set up for you—” 

“What?” Will interrupted. “A room?”

“Well, of course — you’re staying with me in the manor!” Mark exclaimed. Will squinted at him. Mark stared back flatly.

“I wouldn’t want to impose,” Will said finally. 

Mark scoffed. “Nonsense. I already said you were welcome to stay with me! And it’s just Damien and I in that big old house. We’ll get bored. Come on, Will! Life is for the living, as my grandad liked to say, and we can live it up with you in the house!”

Will chuckled. “If you say so,” he said, and there was a warmth in his voice that hadn’t been there before.

“You’ll always be welcome in my house, Will,” Mark said, setting a hand on his best friend’s shoulder.

Will smiled. “Thank you, Mark.”

The two friends caught up on the drive back to the manor, each telling each other the things that hadn’t been or couldn’t be sent in letters. Will informed Mark about his various injuries, to which Mark reacted with appropriate horror.

“...and this one was from an _ idiot _ in a neighboring platoon,” Will said darkly, gesturing to his arm. “He thought I was a deer!”

Mark burst out laughing. Will leveled a glare at him, but couldn’t keep a straight face and soon joined him.

“I’m sure Celine and Damien will enjoy hearing about your war wounds,” Mark said as the laughter wound down. 

“Ah, Damien,” Will said. “How has he been? He hardly ever wrote me —too busy to send me lots of mail, I suppose.”

“Oh, he’s been working himself to the bone,” Mark said. “Law school is rigorous. But he’s waiting to welcome you back just like the rest of us tonight.”

Will sat back in his seat a bit, a relieved look on his face.

When they pulled into the gravel drive of the manor, the front door was flung open and Celine and Damien ran out. Will hardly had time to get out of the car before Celine had hurtled into him, holding on tightly. When she pulled back, they shared a smile. Will had always been the one to look out for Celine when Damien had been away, and they all knew that she had missed him terribly. Damien was next in line, clapping Will on the shoulder before pulling him into a hug as well, apologizing profusely for not writing more even as he did, which made Will laugh, because of course Damien would be the type of man to be up to his eyeballs in work and still worry about the rest of his friends.

They bundled Will into the house, leaving his trunk forgotten in the back seat of the car. Dinner was a whirl of getting caught up and filling in. Celine was nearly done with her studies. Damien complained about law school. Mark started explaining the latest production he was starring in. Will took it all in and said little unless he was asked — uncharacteristic for him, but the others chalked it up to being tired from the journey home. 

Mark drove Celine home while Damien got Will settled in. Mark and Celine nearly took Will’s trunk with them, but Celine noticed it at the last second and had Mark run it in to the house.

Will tossed and turned for hours that night; something just wouldn’t let him fall asleep. He finally crept out of bed and went out on the patio in his bare feet, shivering a bit. It was cold compared to the sweltering Indian jungles, and he’d only worn pants and an undershirt. But he stayed outside anyway, staring up at the stars and trying to remember that he was home now. This became his habit for the nights where he couldn’t sleep because of the bed, or the nightmares. Sometimes Damien would still be up, studying. The two of them would exchange nods and enjoy each other’s silent company. 

Soon enough, though, Will fell back into non-military life, and was absorbed seamlessly into the manor’s day-to-day goings-on. It was common to see him out on the grounds, setting up targets for shooting, or to hear his loud laugh from the dining room where Mark was writing, or to see him trying to entertain a highly incredulous Damien with increasingly ridiculous stories from his time overseas. He seemed like he hadn’t changed at all.

-0-

Mark shuffled through the stack of letters in his hand, checking the name on each one. There were several each for him and Damien, and one or two for Will. Taking a few along with him, he made his way over to the living room. He looked up from the paper to spot the butler along the other side of the room, near the windows, extremely focused as he dusted a shelf.

“Everything going well over there, Benjamin?” he asked, moving to greet the butler, who quickly stood at attention.

“Perfectly, sir,” he said stiffly. 

“Seriously, you don’t have to be that formal,” Mark laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. “It’s not like we don’t know each other.”

“Honorifics are the source of a butler’s dignity, sir,” the butler responded quickly, eyes sweeping the room. “I trust everything is satisfactory?”

“As always.” Mark glanced over the room, eyes lighting on a vase set on a table near the wall. He pointed to it, a slightly mischievous smile crossing his face. “Just make sure you get that one  _ extra _ well. It’s one of my favorites,” he told the butler, who — impossibly — seemed to stand up even straighter.

“Of course, sir!” he said quickly, moving over to inspect it. “A prized piece. I’ll ensure it’s absolutely spotless. Nothing shall happen to it!” he exclaims. “I’ll stake my honor on it!” Mark looked taken aback at the sudden determination, but before he could backpedal, the butler was already striding over to another room. “I’ll make sure it’s pristine!” he called.

Mark stared after the butler in surprise. “I was just… Well, whatever makes you happy, I guess,” he said, shrugging. He looked back to the letters in his hand, opening one and reading it as he walked. Rounding another corner, he stuck his head into the kitchen. “Hey, Chef, are you in here?” 

The uniformed man quickly walked from the pantry to greet Mark, a large knife gripped tightly in his hand. “I thought we agreed you stay outta my kitchen?”

“The flour incident was one time,” Mark protested quickly.

“If you value that good lifespan of yours, I’d recommend you’d stay away,” the cook insisted, pushing the ingredients out of Mark’s reach suspiciously. Mark grinned sheepishly in return.

“There  _ is  _ a reason I hired you, isn’t there?” he replied, pointedly stepping back to the doorway. “Need anything?”

The Chef brought up the knife, looking around the counters. “I could  _ kill _ for some decent seasoning right now.”

“Might wanna work on the knife-holding intimidation a bit, but I’ll make a note for Benjamin,” Mark said. 

“Gets nosy, uppity little fellas like you out of my kitchen, so I think it works just fine,” the Chef replied with a shark-like grin, lowering the knife and moving back to shuffle through the ingredients. 

“Have fun with, um. Whatever you’re baking there.” 

“I’m not bakin’ nothin’. I’m  _ frying _ .” 

“Okay, sounds good, I honestly can’t tell much. You got it all covered, though?” 

“No worries, boss. I got everything good. And what I don’t spot, Little Buddy does.” Mark’s eyes flickered over to the ceramic painted chef in the corner. He had bought it as a joking gift for the cook, and the man had quickly taken it to heart. With a quick nod, the actor turned again, returning to the hallway. 

Preoccupied with looking at another of the letters in his hands, it was only through sheer luck (and possibly his friend’s reflexes) that he avoided bowling straight into William. He jumped back in surprise, knocking lightly into the suit of armor beside him. 

“Sorry, Will!” Mark exclaimed quickly, trying to fix the cockeyed armor on the stand. He turned to look at his friend, letting out a breath. “You’d think with the size of this house, we could avoid nearly plowing each other over.”

“Well, you would find a way somehow,” Will replied with a hint of a grin. “That luck of ours always gets to us. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I can get out of your way.” He stepped to the side, making his way toward the front door. 

Mark gave a final nudge to the armor and followed him. “What are you up to, anyways?” the actor asked.

“I thought I’d take another trip to the shooting range,” William replied, adjusting his spectacles lightly. Mark caught up to him as he opened the door. 

“Hold on, now. I thought you’d be getting ready to go to the military ball they’re having tonight,” he said, his brow furrowed.

Will gave no response, instead settling for a noncommittal shrug. 

“Come on, what else are you doing tonight? Damien and I are attending a charity event downtown. What are you going to do? Sulk alone in the house?” Mark said, waving a hand through the air. “You go shooting practically every week, it’s not like you’re missing something.”

“I’m a grown man, Mark, I can make my own decisions on how I spend my time.” Will snapped harshly. “And  _ I  _ will not be going to that ball.”

“What’s this about, Will?” Mark said, taken aback by the sudden hostility. “I know you may not like Commander What’s-His-Name, but I’m sure that other people you know will be there! They’d love to have you.” 

“They wouldn’t want me there,” Will replied darkly. 

“Come on, it’ll be good for you to get out of the house! See some military friends—”

“Those people are  _ no  _ friends of mine,” said Will vehemently, turning to face Mark fully. 

“What do you mean?” Mark pressed, confused. 

“Why don’t you stick your nose into someone else’s business, Mark?” William shot back, moving to step out the doorway. Mark grabbed his shoulder, stopping him. 

“I don’t know what’s happening with you, come on! You’re acting crazy!” the actor exclaimed. William wrenched himself away, a sudden fire in his eyes. 

“DON’T — !” he yelled. Eyes wide, he tried to collect himself from his sudden outburst. “Don’t call me crazy,” he finished, a tense, quiet tone covering the anger.

Mark looked stricken, but refused to move. “Then help me understand what’s going on, Will.” The Colonel wouldn’t look at him. “Don’t you trust me anymore?”

There was a tense silence. Will seemed to be wrestling with whether or not to tell him something, his jaw clenched. 

“Fine. You want to know?” he said finally, raising his head to meet Mark’s eyes. “You want to know  _ why _ they don’t want me around? Why I came home?” 

Mark simply nodded, not sure what his friend wanted to hear.

“Nightmares. I couldn’t handle a few bloody nightmares,” Will said haltingly, moving away from Mark, back into the entryway.

“Nightmares?” Mark repeated, slowly. He didn’t quite know what he had been expecting, but it wasn’t that. 

“They said all the fighting had gotten to my head,” William said, gesturing sharply. He took a seat on the bench by the room’s wall, running a hand through his hair.“Even after a few weeks away from the front, they didn’t stop. No one knew why they came, just that they wouldn’t go away. They called me sick, unfit for duty.” He looked up at Mark, who was still frozen in the entryway. “Is that what you wanted to hear, Mark?”

He looked to his friend, awaiting some sort of response, but for once the man was stunned to silence. 

Will made a derisive noise. He looked angry, though Mark wasn’t sure if it was because he had pushed him or because he didn’t like recalling this particular episode. “The medic all but listed me as insane. Some of the others didn’t have such reservations. What’s one more fight added to the list of reasons to discharge the madman?” 

“You’re not a madman, Will,” Mark insisted, moving to sit down next to the colonel on the bench. He could see Will’s anger slowly melt to contain a twinge of guilt as the man fiddled with the cuffs of his shirt agitatedly.

“I— I’m sorry, Mark, I hadn’t meant to lash out at you like this. You don’t need to worry about me, I’ll be fine. But you can’t tell a soul. Please, Mark,” Will stammered, finally looking over to his friend. 

“I won’t tell if you don’t want me to, but you can’t stop me from worrying. I care about you, you’re my brother,” said Mark, setting a hand on Will’s shoulder.

Silence fell over the duo as they sat together, taking in what the other said. After a minute, Will looked around the entryway, and a short chuckle escaped from him. “Remember when we were younger, Mark?” he started, voice still laced with mixed emotions. “Playing hide and seek, knights and dragons, not a care in the world?”

“I think we fully knocked down the armor back then,” Mark remarked, a soft smile on his face. “Though we had Damien and Celine to help us there.”

William shook his head, smiling bitterly. “It was so wonderful back then. Mad, sure. But wonderful.” He took out a cloth and compulsively started cleaning his spectacles. “Now… Now I feel as if everything has changed. I—” he cut himself short, trying to form the proper words. “Through everything, I don’t want to lose you all as well.”

“I don’t think anything can change  _ that _ much, Will. Whatever happens, we can work through it the way we started: together,” insisted Mark, putting a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I mean, I’m not saying I’ll be there all the time to drag your sorry hide out of danger, though.” he added teasingly.

“I wouldn’t expect any less,” Will said, a true smile finally taking shape.

Mark stood from the bench, turning to face William with determined excitement in his eyes. “You know what? Forget about the event. That thing’s stuffy and stupid anyway.” He set down the letters in his hand on a stand by the entryway mirror, a smile growing on his face. “Here, we can go out, I can get you a new suit, and you can come with me and Damien tonight! It’ll be fun.” He faltered a bit, looking at William with a small degree of self-consciousness. “I know it isn’t your favorite thing to do, but that way none of us have to be alone tonight.”


End file.
